A WALK AND GOSSIP.


One of my first days in Paris I sauntered out to find some American
newspapers, that I might know something of what had transpired in
America for weeks previous. I directed my steps to the office of Messrs.
Livingston, Wells & Co., where I had been informed a reading-room was
always kept open for the use of American strangers in Paris. The morning
was a delightful one, and I could but contrast it with the usual weather
of London. During months of residence in the English metropolis I had
seen no atmosphere like this, and my spirits, like the sky, were clear
and bright.

On my way I saw a novel sight, and to me the first intimation that the
people of Paris, so widely famed for their politeness, refinement, and
civilization, are yet addicted to certain practices for which the
wildest barbarian in the far west would blush. I saw men in open day, in
the open walk, which was crowded with women as well as men, commit
nuisances of a kind I need not particularize but which seemed to excite
neither wonder nor disgust in the by-passers. Indeed I saw they were
quite accustomed to such sights, and their nonchalance was only equaled
by that of the well-dressed gentlemen who were the guilty parties. I
very soon learned more of Paris, and found that not in this matter alone
were its citizens deficient in refinement, but in still weightier
matters.

I soon reached the American reading-room, and walked in. My first act
was to look at the register where all persons who call inscribe their